


🍴Namira 🍴

by super_rainbow2021



Series: Camp NaNoWriMo 2020 [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry Potter, Camp Nanowrimo, Cannibalism, Champion Harry, Daedra (Elder Scrolls), Gen, I dunno why, NaNoWriMo, Pre-Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Starvation, The Cupboard, also how to i tag that, but namira's quest is actually one i avoid, creepy mommy namira, eating people, fuck timelines, harry eats the dursleys, he's in school at least, he's like not super young?, hmm, how to i tag the descriptions of eating people, i don't fuckin know don't ask me lol, i love writing dark creepy stuff so enjoy, im always a fan of cannibals so that's not it, is that spoilers for the fic?, listen im all here for the creep, maybe 7-9?, motherly namira, not exactly daedra worship, or 8, probably more 7, so that's what i did here, to become namira's champion you just have to eat a person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23930371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/super_rainbow2021/pseuds/super_rainbow2021
Summary: Do you hunger, child?
Series: Camp NaNoWriMo 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670632
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38





	🍴Namira 🍴

**Author's Note:**

> hi wow i totally spaced and didn't write for like three weeks. to be fair, life decided to remind me i don't live in my own little world. moving and finals and quarantine ... yikes. hopefully the rest will come out sooner after next week, but i won't promise anything.
> 
> as always, enjoy!

🍴

Harry Potter lays in his dark, cramped cupboard trying not to think about his protesting stomach. It’s been a week since he accidentally went from running away from Dudley and his gang to the roof of the school, and he’s been locked in the cupboard since the two boys got home. Harry has had plenty of time to befriend all of the spiders in his cupboard; they scuttle along his arms to tickle him, and it distracts him for a while. The hunger had been growing and growing until Harry was sure his stomach was going to try and eat itself.

The darkness starts to creep in and Harry starts to sweat. He feels feverish with hunger, like he’s going to faint at any moment, and his last hidden scrap of bread disappeared a day or so ago. The cramping pains are getting worse and worse as the hours tick by slower and slower until the walls are shifting before Harry’s muddled mind from staring at them for so long. He longs for something to eat, a bare morsel of a crumb that falls from Dudley or Uncle Vernon as he walks by the cupboard. _If only,_ he thinks in a rare moment of clarity when the walls aren’t shifting, _If only I could get out of this cupboard. I’d eat anything I wanted. I’d eat_ ** _everything_** _I wanted._

**_“Do you hunger, child?”_** a voice suddenly croons to him.

Harry jerks, startled at the new hallucination, and the spiders scatter. He’s never heard that voice before, so it’s strange that it would appear to him in his starvation. Obviously, there’s no one here with him in the cupboard, but there is a strange darkness in the corner near his dresser.

Harry lifts himself from his eagle spread and settles on his knees, the hunger weakening him and deeming him unable to move very far at one time. He peers into the darkness and sees a shape forming in the shadows. Crawling over on his hands and knees, Harry collapses against his dresser and tilts his head.

**_“Do you hunger, child?”_** the voice asks again. Harry’s spiders run up his arm and gather atop the dresser to get a better view of the voice. In the shadows, a presence gathers in the familiar form of eight spindly legs and sharp pincers. Harry blinks heavily at it, leaning further on the wooden furniture. ** _“You must feed, my child. It will not do for you to be so hungry.”_**

“Who are you?” Harry doesn’t know if he voices it aloud or simply thinks it, but the shadow spider chuckles at him.

**_“I am Namira, the Ancient Darkness. I was summoned by your vast hunger. Why do you hunger so, my child? Why do you not surge from this space and claim a meal for yourself?”_ **

Because he _can’t,_ honestly. He was locked in his cupboard and it locks from the outside. He hasn’t been brought any food or water and he isn’t allowed to store some for the inevitable repeated actions of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. “I can’t.” This time Harry _knows_ he says it aloud, albeit in a mumble. “I can’t open the door.”

**_“Why must you open it and not break through it? Hunger leaves you weak, so famished. Why have you let yourself slip so far?”_ **

Harry blinks back tears at the surprisingly motherly voice. Why _did_ he? Why has he accepted whatever the Dursleys give him and not fought back? He _used_ to fight back, when he started primary and he realized that the Dursley’s behavior was not normal, but he’s stopped. Why? Has he grown complacent, accepting of whatever fate his relatives deign to give him? The spiders around him tremble with anticipation, and the motherly one snaps its pinchers. This is not what he wanted, Harry realizes. He never wanted to become complacent. He’d always wanted to put the Dursleys in their place once he had the power to do so.

And now, with Namira, he can.

**_“Go and feed, my child.”_ **

And Harry does.

The cupboard splinters into firewood as he bursts forward, on all fours and growling not only from his stomach. The world outside the cupboard is bright, too bright, so the bulb above him _pops_ and rains glass. The child’s senses are simplified to a single thought: _feed._ The second growl becomes a purr as Harry stalks further more, into the kitchen where the forbidden meal is. It too is bright, so the lights _pop_ and startle its occupants: a family of three bears. Harry minutely wonders why there are bears in the Dursley’s kitchen, but the thought is replaced by the deafening roar that is his starvation. The biggest bear yells as Harry juts forward, striking him in the jugular with his sharpened teeth. He struggles as he goes down, but he does, and Harry relishes in the takedown of the papa bear, the biggest threat to him. The baby is next, also male, and Harry slices at his stomach when the cub attacks him. It goes down with a pitiful cry, not quite a roar like his father’s. The mother bear is next, standing tall and thinner than the previous two, but she does not attack him as fiercely as the males. Harry grabs a limb and _pulls_ hard enough for it to rip from its socket, to hang uselessly from its shoulder, and the bear’s roar is wounded. Harry slices his claws across her chest and rips her throat out, and she falls as limply as her family.

Harry’s breathing hard when he finishes, but he is still so _hungry._ The cub won’t give him any sustenance, and the mama was too lean still, so he goes for the body of the papa. It is thick and riddled with nutrients, and hot blood splashes all over him. The meat fills his stomach easily from the days of starvation, so Harry barely gets to enjoy his meal before he can no longer eat safely. As he sits back, face red and hot, thick blood dripping from his chin, he notices the motherly shadow spider from the cupboard. She barely fits into the kitchen, but she manages, and all of Harry’s spider friends are scuttling along the walls and ceiling. A few fall into his hair, nuzzling him the way arachnids do, and settle firmly in his wild raven locks. He welcomes his friends as his new family.

**_“Wonderful, my child,”_** Namira coos. **_“Spectacular. I was not worried in the slightest. Your new family will serve you well, my child. But I would like to offer you Sanctuary in my own family, my Coven. What say you, Champion?”_**

Harry doesn’t know what Namira is talking about. Sanctuary? Coven? Champion? It sounds a lot like the sci-fi movies he’s caught Uncle Vernon watching. Aunt Petunia always scowled at him, taking Dudley away if he was in the same room as him, but Uncle Vernon continued to watch them after they left. Harry had still been able to hear them from his cupboard, and he would make up stories to tell his spider friends. As it is, he tilts his head at Namira, the congealing blood sticking to his hands.

The spider matron laughs throatily. ** _“My apologies, young Champion, I forget Mortals’ grasp on words does not come easily to them. I would like you to leave this house and take you in as my own. The Mortal I favor most is my Champion, hence why I have chosen to call you that.”_** The spider smiles at him with an upturn of its pincers. **_“Here, a Token for you, my Champion.”_**

One of her spindly legs reaches up and drops something that glitters like a midnight pool into Harry’s sticky red palm. When he looks down at it, it is a ring made of a soft but strong black metal, and one lone ruby shines in the center. The metal is streaked through with what looks like molten gold but darker, much like Namira herself. It’s a shame that it’s being covered in blood, but just as Harry thinks that, he is clean again. He blinks down at himself and sees his too-large clothes are spotless of the sticky red blood. They’re still as dirty as ever, but no longer red. He looks back up at the spider, his glowing eyes reflecting the pooling blood beautifully. “Thank you,” he says, because he’s polite like that. Then, “I’d like to come with you.”

Namira smiles with her pincers again. **_“Of course, my Champion. Your friends will show you the way to my Coven. They will accept you graciously as my Champion, I know it. You can rest when you arrive.”_**

With that, the shadow spider disappears, but Harry still has the black ring. He slips it onto his right middle finger, and it fits perfectly. His spiders scuttle with newfound energy, up the walls and on his legs and even in his hair. Smiling at them, Harry stands and cradles the biggest ones in his hands. His friends will show him the way, Namira said. They scuttle along the walls and pry the door open, doing all they can for the boy they and their ancestors have befriended.

Out of Number Four Privet Drive does not emerge Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, Future Savior of the Wizarding World. Out steps a young boy with dead, yellowing skin, a red tint to his mouth and face, sharp nails at the ends of his fingers, ratty clothes, and an entourage of spiders. But the main difference is his eyes; once the emerald green of his mother Lily, then the acidic hue of the Killing Curse, they now glow a putrid yellow, dull like the dead near the irises but reflecting the moonlight perfectly. A smirk rests on his lips as his new family guides him to Namira’s Coven, and the mutilated bodies of the Dursleys lie in the kitchen behind him. He will be long gone by the time frantic wizards appear, led by Albus Dumbledore, and they will never be able to find him.

Namira smirks and cackles loudly in Her plane at this outcome, and waits with dark glee for the day Her Champion learns what the man had in store for him.

🍴

**Author's Note:**

> i'm saltycaramelnut on tumblr if you have and asks or prompts!


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